


allergies, atsumu, and a hot tattoo artist

by floatyourself



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Allergies, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, First Meetings, Fluff and Crack, Light Swearing, M/M, Miya Atsumu Being an Idiot, florist atsumu and tattoo artist sakusa, osamu makes one appearance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:14:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27345646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floatyourself/pseuds/floatyourself
Summary: Atsumu's current concern: What do you do when your hay fever may or may not have cockblocked your chance with the hot tattoo artist who just stepped into the flower shop?
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 4
Kudos: 150





	allergies, atsumu, and a hot tattoo artist

**Author's Note:**

> apologies if it's kinda incoherent, i made this to fight off writers block so I just did what I could !!

Contrary to popular belief, Atsumu had a wide array of interests. It was a tragedy therefore that only a few people knew about his real hobby - gardening and more specifically, taking care of flowers. He had picked up the habit from his old captain, Kita-san, and soon enough, had a thriving garden right at the balcony of his tiny apartment. There was just one problem though. 

Atsumu had the _worst_ case of hay fever. Hay fever, pollen allergy, whatever you call it - he simply could not stand to be near flowers for too long. During springtime, he always came down with the most disgustin’, snotty disease - in Osamu’s terms - leaving Atsumu quite honestly heartbroken over his predicament. He just wanted to - literally - smell the flowers and make some bouquets, damn it. If he couldn’t even go near a sunflower without sneezing a lung off, what was the point of spring after all?

But Atsumu wasn’t raised to be a quitter - much to the dismay of his parents and the everlasting entertainment of his twin, who tells him his “stubborn head will get ya in trouble one day” - and had promptly pestered their local flower shop into giving him a part-time job for the summer. It wasn’t a full-time job like he wanted, but it was good enough. The pay was pretty good too, and he was satisfied at the thought of winning his and Osamu’s annual summer competition of who would earn more money by the end of the season. 

And thus began his job as a florist. The owner - a lovely old lady who couldn’t find it in her heart to resist Atsumu’s begging - had asked him if he would be alright working the store given his condition and Atsumu, silly, naive Atsumu, had just shot the poor lady a winning smile, with promises to keep the store alive and business booming.

* * *

Most of the time, Atsumu worked the store alone until the owner came around to take over. Today was one of those days, and with Mariah Carey’s full discography blasting from the store’s speakers, he finished off a bouquet he had been making for a customer, sending them off with a winning smile. Once the customer had left the premises, however, he let out the breath he was holding.

“Ha-ha…” he inhaled, turning back against the counter as his hand clutched a tissue box on the counter.

Unbeknownst to the blonde, who was too preoccupied with his sneezing fit, the front door of the shop had opened and a customer had entered, making their way towards the counter.

“Excuse me,” the customer behind Atsumu spoke up, voice deep and rumbling and velvety all at the same time.

 _Wow, their voice sounds hot_ , Atsumu thought idly, turning around to greet the newcomer. He tried to exhale through his nose softly to cancel out the incoming sneeze but to his dismay, the technique which had usually worked on him conveniently backfired, as he let out probably one of the loudest sneezes known to mankind.

“AH-CHOO!” Atsumu sniffled, rubbing his eyes blearily and focusing on the customer - holy shit - in front of him. Blinking rapidly, Atsumu refocused on the newcomer and - holy shit this was the hottest man he had ever seen in his entire life.

The man, decked out in tight-fitting jeans - were those even legal - a black shirt which emphasized his admittedly very impressive biceps, and black gloves - may the gods help Atsumu - was a few inches taller than Atsumu - which was already quite impressive given his six-foot frame. He had the darkest, most luscious curls which shone brilliantly when the light hit it just right, and two tiny moles on top of his eyebrow. He couldn’t see half of the stranger’s face because the other was wearing a white face mask, but he could almost visualize vividly the soft, pink lips the stranger most probably had as a contrast to his pale, smooth skin. To top it all of, the stranger had tattoos.

Tattoos.

Atsumu made a mental note to increase the offerings he gave to the _kami_ the next time he visited.

Ink winded down all the way from the stranger’s neck, peeking out from beneath the collarbones, and stretching out towards his arms and biceps. The colors seemed to pop, contrasting his skin beautifully. Was that - was that a snake underneath his collarbones? Atsumu wondered if he had tattoos on his back as well, and felt his cheeks turning red. The man was muscular - and he was doing himself no favors by imagining the other half-naked.

In short, Stranger-san was tall, dark, and handsome - and Atsumu was a second away from jumping him or asking for his number or a weird combination of both. Stranger-san checked out all the boxes in Atsumu’s list so completely, it felt like the gods had smiled down on Atsumu by deciding to have him grace Atsumu’s presence alone. 

It appeared, however, that Atsumu’s luck could only reach so far. Suddenly aware of the snot which was threatening to drip down from his nose, Atsumu snorted as discreetly as possible - though the action did not go unnoticed by the stranger, whose eyebrows had pulled together into a deep-seated frown. With eyes rimmed red, a throat so itchy that it felt like a cough was trying to force its way out of his lungs, and of course - snot dripping from his nose, Atsumu flashed a handsome smile at the stranger - or as handsome as he could be, given his current state. “H-how,” he sneezed again, “How may I help ya?” Mustering up his last line of defense, Atsumu decided to throw a cheeky wink at the stranger, who flinched at the action.

“Never mind, I came to just look around,” the stranger responded hesitantly, eyes darting from Atsumu to the exit. He wrung his hands - anxiously? - and started to slowly walk back towards the door, looking agitated and stuffing his hands in his pockets.

Atsumu blew his nose into a tissue, crumpling it up and shooting it basketball-style at the trash bin near the exit. The wadded up tissue soared into a perfect half-arc into the air, barely missing the stranger before making its way into the target trash bin. _Score!_ Grinning at the stranger - Atsumu _really_ hoped he was impressed.

“What kinda flowers are ya lookin’ for? If ya tell me the occasion, I can help ya choose-“

_Clang, clang!_

The sound of the bell chimes interrupted Atsumu’s sentence, as the stranger abruptly exited and hightailed it out of the store.

He frowned. Stranger-san hadn’t looked at the flowers and he didn’t even _get_ Atsumu’s number - arguably the biggest loss for Atsumu in the entire encounter. Lips pouting, he began to busy himself with singing along with Mariah Carey and shoveling out soil for the plants. Stranger-san would come back later, he was sure of it. 

* * *

Stranger-san did _not_ come back after days of Atsumu pining on the shop counter. This was all to his disappointment - as Atsumu had gone the extra mile these past few days with applying cologne and hair gel, all in an attempt to clean himself up for the day he met the shockingly attractive man once again. And so Atsumu found himself lounging at the diner his brother worked at after his shift at the shop ended, slurping moodily the milkshake he had ordered, still smelling strongly of the citrusy scent he had put on hours ago. It had been a week, he drank the milkshake angrily. Did Stranger-san even need flowers in the first place? Or maybe he had already found another florist, Atsumu’s heart fell into his stomach, feeling heavier than before.

“I thought bein’ the younger twin counted for somethin’, but why is it always you coming to ask for my help?”

Atsumu looked up from his drink as Osamu seated himself on the booth opposite him. 

“Piss off, Samu. Stranger-san hasn’t been ta the shop fer days and I’ve been running out of cologne to use.”

“Ya mean the cologne Ma gifted two years ago? That’s nasty,” Osamu snorted. “I knew ya weren’t the type to regularly use cologne. What did the stranger look like, anyway? I might’ve seen him in the diner once or twice already.”

Atsumu glared at his twin, swirling his shake around with a straw but described the stronger in detail to his twin, his memory of the event still crystal clear.

“He had tattoos and -“

“Tattoos?” Osamu interrupted. “Yer not talkin about Sakusa, aren’t ya? He’s the new tattoo apprentice in town. Always orders takeout from here, because he can’t deal with crowds and dirt and whatnot,” he waved a hand, not noticing Atsumu’s expression growing sourer and sourer with each passing second.

“Whaddya mean,” Atsumu enunciated every syllable slowly, voice shaky and in disbelief. “The cute tattoo artist is a - is a -“ 

“-Is a germaphobe,” Osamu finished for his twin, looking amused with the turn of events. “Sakusa hates germs, that’s why he’s always wearing gloves and a mask.”

Silence.

Atsumu had never wanted the ground to swallow him up more than ever until now. 

Atsumu had _sneezed_ in front of Sakusa. Sakusa, the cute tattoo artist who would most probably never come a foot within him ever again. No wonder he had bolted from the shop like it was on fire. He stood up, distressed, and seconds away from a full-blown crisis. “Gotta go, thanks for the info.”

As Atsumu exited the diner, head spinning, he could hear Osamu’s chortles from behind, finding his twin’s predicament to be one of the most entertaining things he had heard all day.

“Now d’ya regret not gettin’ those allergy shots Ma asked you to get years ago?"

Voice hoarse from his allergies, Atsumu flashed his twin a middle finger. “Piss off!”

* * *

After being absolutely _humiliated_ in front of his twin, Atsumu had decided to go research. And by research, that meant staking out the tattoo parlor Sakusa worked at. He knew he was toeing the line between being borderline creepy and curious, but Atsumu couldn’t find it in himself to care. After all, he was way too embarrassed to even show his face to Sakusa after their horrendous first meeting. Hidden behind a trashcan, Atsumu noted that Sakusa went to the flower shop daily, and always purchased a bouquet to display inside the tattoo shop.

He probably only visited when it wasn’t Atsumu’s shift, much to the blonde’s dismay and disappointment. With a plan formulating in his mind, Atsumu took out his phone, sending a text to three different people all at once.

**Flower Shop Obaachan - _sent 12:30pm_**

> hello :) would it be alright if i take the morning shift tomorrow?

**Ma (answer asap) - _sent 12:31pm_**

> ma, dya think the clinic is open 4 allergy shots 2day??

**ugly twin - sent _12:31pm_**

> plan is in place gunna bag myself a hot tattoo man ha!

**ugly twin - received _12:33pm_**

< yer a loser but good luck i guess ur gonna need it lol

* * *

The next day, after getting permission from the owner to run the morning shift, Atsumu entered the flower shop determined, and with a mission to complete. He had wrangled the location of the clinic from his mother - who had understandably got angry over finding out her son was only making good on an order she had made years ago - and had dropped by the local convenience store to buy allergy medicine and face masks. With his clothes smelling like the very last bits of cologne he had spritzed on, face mask strapped on and nose thankfully clear and uncongested - for now, Atsumu was ready to woo the socks off Hot Tattoo Artist Sakusa.

As he busied himself with the store opening, Atsumu studied the flower categories of the shop, grabbing a few here and there as he rearranged the flowers to his liking on top of the kraft paper he had found beneath the counter. While he was busy putting the finishing touches on the bouquet, the bell chimes rang, and Atsumu looked up to see Sakusa frozen in the doorway, one footstep ready to twist and just turn around from where he came from.

"Wait! Come in, please."

Sakusa stood still for a second, hesitant as he weighed the pros and cons of approaching the blonde once again. It seemed that Atsumu's current appearance seemed to do the trick though, as the tattoo artist stepped forward towards the counter, albeit a bit hesitantly. Atsumu wrinkled his nose, desperately trying to stop himself from breathing and inevitably sneezing once again on the other. “Here ya go,” he shoved a bouquet of camellias and roses which he had painstakingly arranged to perfection towards Sakusa, face turned away from the other. 

Sakusa took the bouquet gingerly, confused at the sight of the blonde looking dangerously redder and redder by the second. Whether he was red from blushing or from not breathing for the past few minutes, Sakusa didn’t know. Whatever it was, Atsumu looked like he was nearly passing out. “Thank you,” he looked at the name tag pinned on the florist’s very broad chest. “Miya. But I didn’t order anything from the shop. You must be mistaken.”

"I already paid for it," he muttered, shifting from one foot to another. Atsumu's eyes found the glaringly large exit sign and wondered if it was still possible for him to just up and run away from the encounter.

Sakusa raised a brow at the blonde, not having heard Atsumu's voice, which had grown considerably softer since he last spoke.

"I didn't hear what you were saying."

Damn. There was no getting out of this situation already. It was now or never. 

Atsumu took a lungful of air, adrenaline rushing through his veins. If Osamu had seen him right now, face red and looking ready to burst at the sight of just a pretty man, he would’ve never let Atsumu live it down. But it was just the two of them alone in the shop, and Atsumu was absolutely not going to waste his shot. Turning around slowly, he was hit by a sense of deja vu. 

“Nah it’s for ya! I paid it and all and I’m sorry that I sneezed on ya by accident the other day and I just think yer really cute and _please, please, please_ give me a chance! I sanitize myself regularly! I took my allergy shots and all and look!” Atsumu blabbered nonstop as he gestured to his face, “I’ve started wearin’ a mask and—“

“Miya.”

Atsumu stopped in the middle of his tirade, feeling embarrassment creep into his veins. Now he’d gone and fucked it up in front of Sakusa. Maybe he went overboard with the flowers? 

“Yeah?” He mumbled, voice muffled by his mask, refusing to look Sakusa directly in the eyes.

“I think you should take me out to dinner properly before you start giving me camellias and roses.” Sakusa plucked a camellia from the bouquet and twirled it around disinterestedly. Atsumu could’ve sworn that Sakusa was smirking beneath his mask - if the playful glint in his eyes was anything to go by.

"I don't really believe in love at first sight, you see."

What was Sakusa talking about? There was only one explanation for this, and, and- “Ya didn’t tell me ya knew flower language!” Atsumu snapped, placing his head in his hands and whining morosely.

Sakusa stayed put in his position, scanning Atsumu from head to toe. Atsumu shivered slightly at the man's gaze, feeling like he was being subjected to some kind of test he didn't know he had signed up for. Giving a rather curt and appraising nod at Atsumu's get-up, he shrugged at Atsumu's question.

"Was I supposed to tell you? You had very poor customer service the first time I came in. Hardly the best time to strike up a conversation about flowers with the employee at that time."

“I'm sorry!" Atsumu whined. "Now I’ve gone and done it! Embarrassed myself in front of the hottest guy I’ve known,” he wailed helplessly, much to Sakusa’s endless amusement. 

"Ya can go if ya don't wanna see my face ever again, I'll understand," Atsumu placed his hand on his heart dramatically. "I already paid for yer damn flowers just don't break my heart like this all over again."

Sakusa sighed at the other's theatrics. “If this is your way of convincing me to not go through with our date, you're doing a fine job with it. Also, isn’t it a bit tacky to be saying I love you before the first date, Miya?”

“I was just tryna impress ya! Wait, did ya just ask me out on a date?"

"I'm taking it back. Took you long enough to get it."

"But! I gave ya flowers and all! I told ya I love you! That's got to count for somethin' right? Hey, hey where are ya goin? We haven't even exchanged numbers yet!"

**Author's Note:**

> atsumu is whipped wbk !  
> flower meanings:  
> red roses: p common, means i love you  
> camellias: adoration, love, longing for another
> 
> i hope u enjoyed the product of my brainrot and comments are very much appreciated !
> 
> my twt is @osamunation if u wanna be friends


End file.
